


I ain't got no money (but I know where to put it every time)

by nonnymouse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Corsetry, Double Penetration in One Hole, Gang Rape, Humiliation, M/M, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Rimming, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonnymouse/pseuds/nonnymouse
Summary: No one, Ruslan included, believed the lottery was truly fair until the day Weston Thurrop was selected.
Relationships: High School Students/Classmate Randomly Selected For Week Long Public Brothel Duty, older brother/younger brother - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 155
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	I ain't got no money (but I know where to put it every time)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



> Title from "Cocksucker Blues" by The Rolling Stones.

No one could believe it. Weston Thurrop had been selected for the lottery.

The lottery, of course, was run by an independent firm. If the school had been allowed to run it, Weston Thurrop most definitely would have never been selected. It probably would have been Ruslan himself, or one of his friends among the scholarship boys.

Two years ago, a group of boys from the School of Griffin's Mercy had set fire to the brothel after being refused service for being too rough with the prostitutes on a previous visit. No lives had been lost, but the building had been destroyed. The townspeople had sued the school, angered by the way the rich students felt they could treat the people who lived and worked there any way they wanted.

The judge agreed, and the lottery was instituted. The school paid for a new building, and peopled it with a selection of students chosen for various terms of service. A barkeep or singer might have to serve a month; prostitutes served for a week.

The school, if allowed, would have sent their least valuable students to the brothel. Everyone knew it, which meant measures had been taken to ensure the selection was truly random and thus fair.

No one, Ruslan included, believed the lottery was truly fair until the day Weston Thurrop was selected.

Weston Thurrop, after all, was the youngest son of the richest man in the province. Never was a student more privileged, aside from the elder Thurrop, Easterly, who was graduating in a few short months.

The bidding would be fierce, Ruslan knew. After the drawing in the morning, the chosen students were taken to be prepared for the evening. There were twelve hours in which anyone interested could bid for a boy's time. The bidders would get their turn in order, and then the boy would be free for anyone who happened to stop by the brothel. (The drawing happened twice a week to make sure a student was always available for walk-ins. Enough funds had been raised for the brothel to hire the old prostitutes back, but the chosen students were always the biggest draw.) Someone like Weston Thurrop? They'd have to cut off the bids somewhere.

After all, even a scholarship student like Ruslan put in a bid, his stake shared with his friends Nathan and Ylvain. (They'd only been able to persuade Ylvain after the lunchtime announcement that the inspectors had declared Weston Thurrop a virgin.)

Even though he had no chance, Ruslan felt himself growing excited. The excitement was contagious. As much as the students loved tormenting the townies, they loved turning on one of their own even more. Only the most influential men in town would be likely to afford a slot, as many of the students as would want a go.

* * *

Together, Ruslan, Nate, and Ylvain hurried to the brothel. Since they'd pooled their money to place a bid, even a bus ticket was a luxury they couldn't afford for the moment. They wouldn't miss the spectacle just because they had to walk, however. Scholarship boys were hardier than that.

Most likely, they wouldn't get to see much. But it was always worth it, seeing one of the rich boys all scrubbed up, knowing he'd been cleaned inside and out, seeing the look on his face as the winner grabbed hold of him and he realized there was no escape. Daddy could pay his way out of this one. They'd also get to check the schedule, see if they had managed to scrape together enough.

Fortunately, it was a pleasant spring evening, a light breeze keeping them from sweating and marking them as having walked instead of hiring a car. The light in the sky was dim enough that the brightest planet could be seen shining above, even though the stars wouldn't be out for a few hours. They waved to the townspeople as they passed, all smiles. The townspeople didn't mind the scholarship boys the same way they minded the students, and on a night like tonight, even the students were welcome. Strangely, the sentence was healing the community.

(Or perhaps not so strangely. Everyone knew Thurrop the Younger had been there that night, proving that he was a big man like his brother.)

When they arrived at the brothel, they were even welcomed. Atwater, a young man with sandy hair and spectacles, clapped Ruslan on the back. "Nice to see you, chap! Come on in, come on in, lads. Don't want to miss the show of the season."

The thing about being the richest boy in school (except for your older brother) was that you were automatically popular. Everyone would suck up to you because one day you would wield power that might help them. But it was a surface popularity. Weston Thurrop was a bully who'd never bothered to develop a personality or work ethic. His interests were forcing other people to do his work and then berating them for how they did it. Despite being popular, no one liked him.

"Hello, everyone," Madame Truepenny called out, bringing everyone's attention to the stage taking up the entire left side of the brothel's main room. The lights over the crowd dimmed as the stage lights grew brighter. Madame Truepenny had been the third daughter of a baker who had decided that marriage didn't suit her. Many in the town admired her entrepreneurial spirit. Many a single man regretted it, as Madame Truepenny was as lovely to look at as her workers.

"Tonight, I introduce: Weston Thurrop!" With a wave of her hand, the curtain pulled all the way back, revealing Weston Thurrop shifting from foot to foot, his eyes wide like a startled deer and his hands holding the tiny skirt he wore down so that it almost covered his mid thigh.

Weston Thurrop was not a noticeably attractive individual. He had all the markers of good health and fine care: shiny hair, neat nails, good skin, bright teeth. After his growth spurt, the rest of his body had failed to catch up to his height. He had a lanky look to him, all legs, like some kind of water bird.

It had never occurred to Ruslan to imagine how attractive those long legs might look when framed by a scrap of fabric that was identifiable as a skirt only because he was wearing a corset as well. The corset gave shape to his leanness, forcing his waist to narrow. The corset was brief as well, framing Weston Thurrop's nipples with three points and doing nothing to cover them.

"Our winning bidder had a special request," Madame Truepenny said with a smile. "Come and fetch your winnings, Easterly Thurrop!"

A stir went through the crowd as the elder Thurrop hopped onto the stage with leonine grace. He played to the crowd, grinning at them and pumping his fist as he stalked toward his brother, who stumbled backward on his long legs like a helpless fawn.

"Easterly?" Weston Thurrop questioned in disbelief.

Easterly laughed at him, pulling him down into a headlock and giving him a noogie, like any good-natured older brother. "Who wants to see a show?" he called out to the crowd, and Ruslan joined them in roaring with excitement.

He hadn't imagined seeing much at all, much less Weston Thurrop being betrayed by the one person he trusted.

"Do you think I'd let anyone else have my brother's ass, first?" Easterly asked, smirking at him. "You're mine, Westie. I could pay to have you this entire time. But I'm generous enough to share." Playing to the crowd once more, he cried, "Let's get Westie prepared then!" Ruslan had never heard Weston Thurrop called Westie before, but if he had to hazard a guess, he'd never hear Weston Thurrop called anything else again. No more would he always be known by two names, carrying the fear of his powerful family with him through the halls. After all, Easterly wasn't standing with him, but behind him.

Easterly took a moment to speak quietly with Madame Truepenny, and soon the other student on duty was brought to the stage. His eyes darted nervously toward the crowd, but after days of service, he didn't put up a fuss when given orders. With pragmatic resignation, he sank to his knees, flipped the back of Westie's skirt up, and set to wetting his hole with his tongue.

Westie tried to pull away, but Easterly clapped one big hand on his shoulder, and theatrically hissed between his teeth that he would call guards to hold Westie if he had to.

At first, Westie was preoccupied with whether to run or not. But once Easterly persuaded to stand there with as much dignity as he could, with two brisk slaps across his face, he was forced to acknowledge what was happening to him. A flush grew brighter and brighter on his skin as he stood before all those watching eyes.

"I think something is obscuring our audience's view," Easterly said, tearing the flimsy skirt off with a flourish.

Without the skirt in the way, it was easy to see that Westie's cock had grown hard from the tongue licking his hole, no matter that he was dressed as a woman and standing in front of his peers. He had a respectably sized cock, which was possibly the one thing he could be proud of. He certainly couldn't be proud of the panties that matched his corset, which had been pulled to the side by the boy licking his ass.

Fortunately, Easterly didn't keep them waiting long for the real show. "Good enough," he said, forcing the boy choke on his cock for a few seconds before letting him scramble away from the stage. Prepared only with spit, he nodded his head to the crowd like a king acknowledging his subjects, and thrust into his brother's virgin ass with no further ceremony.

The sound Westie made would live on in Ruslan's fantasies for the rest of his life. So many types of pain layered in a single cry of wounded outrage.

Ruslan had to wonder if any of those rich boys fucked in front of each other routinely, because Easterly made a good show of it. He held Westie in front of him, displaying every second of his humiliation, and planted his feet wide so that he could make each thrust showy, pulling out almost all the way and then pushing in fast to make Westie jump.

Biting his lip, Ruslan did not let his hand stray to his pants like some of the crowd. But he had to admit, the brothers made quite the display. Their hair was a similar color, Easterly's bleached slightly by the sun. His skin was darker too, from time spent with the rowing team. His build mirrored Westie's, tall and long limbed, but his limbs were thicker, muscled from putting in an effort now and then, even if it were for a ridiculously useless sport. He was the heir, the one who was not just popular but liked, everything Weston Thurrop had always been a pale imitation of. Easterly certainly had never needed to be constantly referred to by his last name to feel big. People had naturally called him the elder Thurrop out of respect.

Ruslan wondered if Westie had always been a pathetic disappointment to him.

Keeping it from getting boring, Easterly started playing with Westie's nipples, tugging at them and pinching them, laughing whenever he made Westie squeal. "That's right, you love this," Easterly said, nipping at the base of Westie's neck. It couldn't be denied that Westie's cock was still hard, flicking drops of seed over the fabric of the corset whenever Easterly did something that made his cock jump. Usually, it was viciously twisting one of his nipples at the same second he bottomed out in his ass.

"Tell him how pretty he is," Easterly called out to the crowd. Answering calls sounded from throughout the room, each more obscene in their appreciation than the last.

No more than ten hours to plan, and having all his classes to attend no less, and Easterly had imagined quite the show for the townspeople and his peers. He'd even figured out how to let them participate. The corset not only enhanced Westie's figure, but showed off his tortured nipples perfectly. Even when Easterly moved his hands to adjust Westie's position, those swollen red nubs were framed perfectly. Ruslan felt like yelling out something about how good Westie looked in the corset, how it suited him, how he looked attractive despite his personality, but he couldn't figure out a way to say it that would sound good shouted across the room.

Westie would never have been able to live this display down no matter what, but nothing sealed his humiliation like his own pleasure in it. Right there on stage he came from his brother fucking his ass before his brother could even come. Tears spilled down his crumpled face as he sagged in Easterly's hold, going limp as Easterly finished himself off.

Announcements of the lottery had been growing more and more mundane, and after this, how could they be anything but a routine fact of life? No other student's first turn would ever live up to the humiliation of untouchable Weston Thurrop destroyed by his own brother.

Easterly ripping the panties off Westie to wipe himself clean was just gilding the lily.

Strutting to the edge of the stage, Easterly paused for a moment to address the watchers. "In case anyone fears retaliation from my family, I would like to make it clear that Weston will be disowned after he finishes his service for the school, for his disgrace to the Thurrop name. Do be sure he earns his disownment. You wouldn't want the family to kick him out for nothing, would you?"

The men in the crowd stood as stunned as Westie as Easterly hopped down and walked off to do whatever one did after deflowering and abandoning his own brother.

"We have to see the schedule," Ylvain said, tugging on Ruslan's arm. "Hurry, let's all push towards the front."

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Ruslan linked arms with his friends as they made their way slowly through the crowd to check the schedule. There is was. They'd made the very last slot.

* * *

Every spare moment they had that week, Ruslan and his friends made the trek to the brothel in case someone else chose to use Westie in public. Everyone would remember the way Easterly had used him. He was first, and Westie's brother. But they were last, and perhaps they could be remembered, too.

They each decided to bring an implement from school with them. Nate was a local, allowed to attend the Griffin's Mercy due to his skill in maths. He'd selected a compass, along with a marker and string, which Ruslan didn't quite understand, but Nate promised he had a plan. He'd clenched his fist around the compass, looking away from them, as he revealed that his older brother had been one of the brothel's former workers, one of the ones the boys they went to school with liked to rough up.

Ruslan and Ylvain trusted that he had a plan for the compass.

Ylvain, like Ruslan, had come from another country, though Ylvain was from the east. A talented lacrosse player, he'd been scouted to play for their team. He'd selected his toy first—his worst used lacrosse balls, which looked dingy even after being soaped up.

Ruslan, like Nate, was an academic talent. He took the nicest thing he had, which was not a thing he actually owned. It was the telescope given to him to use in astronomy as he made a study of the movement of the stars above Griffin's Mercy. It would not do to break it, but they only intended to threaten Westie with it.

Finally, the night was upon them. Each of them dressed carefully in clothes that would allow them to get their cocks out without having to fully undress in front of watchers. They also checked that each of the other boys had brought their chosen objects. Then they were off, walking briskly down the hill from the school and winding their way through town.

They arrived a little earlier for their appointment, and Madame Truepenny herself took the time to draw them each a pint and ensure they were comfortably seated while they waited.

"Disowned after this," Ylvain said, the only one of them confident to attempt to strike up conversation with the mistress of the brothel. "Any word of what will happen to him?"

Madame Truepenny leaned in close, a good position to tell secrets and let a group of green schoolboys gawp at her breasts. "Easterly is keeping him as his personal bed slave. You boys aren't allowed slaves up at that school, of course, so he'll be keeping Westie here where he can earn his keep." She could see the sudden horror and disappointment in their faces and made a placating gesture. "Do not worry that you wasted your money, boys. Sure, Westie will be cheaper next week. But next week he'll belong to Easterly, and anyone who purchases him will have to be careful with the little lord's belongings. Tonight, he's making his reparations to this town, and you can exact those reparations however you like."

Mollified, they finished off their pints as they waited, cracking jokes that were either defusing their excitement when it became too much or ensuring they kept the mood up. It was hard to tell. Each of them fed off the others' energy, practically vibrating with the eagerness by the time they were led back to Westie's room.

In a week, he'd gone from the prince of the school to beaten down drudge. He knelt, waiting, head hanging low.

Ruslan exchanged looks with Ylvain and Nate. It wouldn't be fun if he accepted everything without question.

Westie raised his head to see his final customers. A dull flush of outrage spread as he glared at them. "Scholarship students? I'm not being used by scholarship students."

Madame Truepenny had told them how to call the guards, but they didn't think they needed them. When Westie tried to stand, Ylvain knocked him down with an arm strengthened by daily lacrosse practice. Spoiled Westie went down, staring up at them with shocked eyes. None of them would've touched him like that before out of a fear of retaliation, no matter how easy it would have been to hurt the twerp.

"I promise," Nate said, "you'll be begging to take our cocks soon enough."

"C'mon," Ylvain ordered, grabbing Westie by the arm and dragging him out of the room. Together, they marched him to the stage.

The men sitting around drinking perked up when they saw them drag Westie onto the stage for display. Tonight, he was naked. They had no need of fancy corsets.

Together, they arranged Westie how they wanted him. There was a bench he could lay on that kept his asshole and his mouth at the perfect height for fucking. They needed to lube his ass, but fortunately one of the men watching was actually eager to do it for him. Ruslan almost regretted not volunteering to do it himself, watching the man's enthusiasm as he fucked Westie with his fat fingers, getting the lube in as deep as the boys requested while Westie moaned.

"If I may?" Nate asked Ylvain before taking one of his lacrosse balls. He walked to Westie's front and held it in front of his eyes. Calmly, he took out the compass, sticking it into the ball and swinging the string to measure. "Perfect regulation size. 20.3 centimeters in circumference. I want you to remember that size. Can you repeat it?"

"Twenty-point-three centimeters," Westie said with a roll of his eyes. Maybe he'd had bigger things up his ass already, and that's why he wasn't afraid of the ball. But they weren't stopping at a ball.

Nate tossed the ball to Ylvain, and even those his toss went wide, Ylvain was still able to catch it, snatching it from the air with an effortless stretch of his long arms.

Without a word, Ylvain pushed the first ball into Westie's ass. It took some work, Westie's asshole resisting, but once the widest part was inside Westie's ass eagerly swallowed the ball. They took turns, each pushing a ball in, until they'd each shoved two in.

"Roll over," Ylvain ordered, and everyone leaned in to see how the six balls made Westie's stomach curve outward. He looked good full, and it seemed he felt good too, for his cock was hard and seed pearled at the tip.

"Who knew the great Weston Thurrop would love getting lacrosse balls shoved up his ass? Being Westie suits you, doesn't it? You're much more likeable like this." Ruslan patted Westie on his full belly, because he meant it. He almost liked the guy when he was looking up at them with pleading eyes.

But those pretty eyes he was batting at them wasn't enough. He needed to beg for their cocks.

Reverently, Ruslan pulled his telescope from the case. He understood the compass now, as Nate produced it with a flourish and measured the larger end.

"How big was the lacrosse ball?" he asked.

"Twenty-point-three centimeters," Westie said. This time his eyes kept a wary watch on Nate's hands, holding their measure.

Nate did not say it aloud, but bent to whisper the number in Westie's ear.

Tears welling up, Westie begged. "Please, please fuck me with your cocks. Don't fuck me with your telescope. Please. I want your cocks. I want to suck your cock, I want you to fuck me with your cock, I need your cock in me."

Ruslan wavered. The begging seemed sincere, and he'd be in quite a bit of trouble if he broke the telescope. But Westie looked so good full of the balls—

"Push out the balls," he ordered, because Westie wasn't likely to be so compliant in a few minutes.

The room watched with laughter and pointing as Westie planted his feet flat and pushed, throwing his head back and panting after each ball, like he was giving birth to six little eggs. The last one took the longest, and Ruslan helped, pressing on Westie's stomach, pushing on the ball from outside. When it finally escaped, Westie's hole winked, eager for what Ruslan was going to give it even if Westie himself tried to deny it.

Holding up the telescope, Ruslan turned toward the men watching as they drank. "What say you?" he asked, letting his voice ring out. He felt bolder than he ever had before. "Should we fill him with the telescope anyway, for thinking fucking a group of scholarship students was beneath his dignity? Nothing is beneath a lottery boy's dignity, not even being fucked by the possession of a scholarship student."

The crowd roared with approval. Most of the schoolboys had grown bored of Westie already. This was a crowd of men, resentful of boys who already owned more than they ever would. Why not fuck those uppity boys with their meager belongings, sully them with the poorer things in life?

His pulse thundering in his ears, Ruslan lubed the end of the telescope well, worried what might happen to the precious telescope if he did not take care to ease its passage. Satisfied he'd greased the telescope well, he took his place behind Westie.

While he'd worked, Ylvain and Nate had flipped Westie back onto his stomach and attached restraints to his limbs. Each of them grabbed an ass cheek and pulled, exposing Westie's hole to Ruslan.

The end of the telescope was large, and there were no smooth, curved edges to ease its way. Westie would have to take the largest part first. Ruslan inserted the telescope at an angle, twisting it in tiny motions, working in one edge a little, then shifting the pressure and working in another edge. While the work took patience, it was not without its rewards. Westie made a symphony of sounds as Ruslan worked the telescope in, all the begging they could ever want mingled with ecstatic moans. Ruslan didn't know if anyone but Westie could take such a thing in their ass, but he took it beautifully.

Once the end was in, the telescope moved in rather smoothly as Ruslan twisted it, stopping when he felt resistance. He extended the end of the telescope fully, Westie groaning as he felt the weight of it, and he knelt and took a look. It was too dark to see, really, but he felt as if he could. He was looking right into the heart of Westie. His ass was as greedy as the rest of him, but far more appealing to witness.

Ylvain and Nate each took their turns, Nate inscribing the arc of the telescope on Westie's skin with his marker, and then they invited all the men who wanted to come and have a look.

Though Westie cried in humiliation, his erection never flagged.

Every time Ruslan studied the stars, he would remember this night. He would remember laughing with his friends as everyone took a turn with his telescope, shoved up the ass of the fuck toy who had been Weston Thurrop. A man's stars could change, indeed.

Perhaps it felt anti-climatic to remove the telescope. Their props were done with, and Ruslan felt they'd been well used, put toward a show as memorable as Easterly's.

Fucking Westie, of course, only felt like an afterthought until they had their cocks in him.

"I want his mouth," Nate had proclaimed, and Ruslan and Ylvain had shrugged agreeably.

Westie's hole was struggling to close after the use they'd put it through, and the only sensible thing to do seemed to share his hole before it grew tight again. They rang for Madame Truepenny, and she helped them adjust the bench and find another for Ylvain to lie on and position himself beneath Westie.

Perhaps the whole setup was awkward, but awkwardness had a way of fading when you had your cock sheathed in warm ass.

Ruslan drank in the sight. Nate sneering down at Westie as he fucked his face, the sneer long gone from his swollen lips. Ylvain beneath, his cock sliding in alongside Ruslan's, adding an intriguing element of friction and making Westie feel tight around them. The sight of Westie himself, his narrow shoulders, his slim back, his ass swallowing both their cocks.

Ruslan laughed at the joy of it all. For this was friendship, the bond that helped them survive the sneering disdain of the other students. They'd never have been able to do this, except together.

When Ruslan grew old and went to the brothel to have a drink, this is what he'd remember. Smiling and laughing with his friends as the fucked the night away.


End file.
